Running inside, closing down and shutting off
It might be easy for some
It's torture to me... I torture myself.
No one cares when I disappear
No one notices
My phone doesn't ring.
Maybe I miss Facebook events
Some of which included a family death
And still, my phone didn't ring.
No one knocks on my door
No questions are asked of what's going on
With me,
in me.
When I announce my retraction
They slightly caring folks will await
A Facebook update
They don't call.
The whole world goes on
while I'm trying to not post my depression
for the five friends that care.
Although the care only reaches as far as
waiting for my facebook post
telling them I'm "ok"
      But
            I'm
                  Not

I was mute.
Responding to the silence in-between the dial tone.
A new proposal of a new unlimited data plan.
I don't know how many gigs equate to the amount of anticipation.
Sitting in silence.
Phone pressed against my ear waiting to the sound of your voice.
The smell of stair-fry coming from an oval pan.
The smell of darkened beef and steamed vegetables sizzling by a *** of rice.
Boiling over in anticipation

I'm lying in my little
home,
my dim-lit phone, I'm all
alone,
now staring at my dim-lit
phone,
I miss your call, I miss your call...

At last, this scent entraps my
nose,
the smell of rose, it must be
yours...
and yet, my body isn't
close...
it's not near yours, it can't
be yours...

-This dream again! It's night, I'm home,
a giant hole, I call it
home...
a little light - it's just my phone,
I'm all alone, I'm all
alone...

PHONE RINGS
"I should answer it this time, but I won't."
PHONE RINGS
"I should call whoever back, but I don't."
PHONE RINGS
"I'm scared of who it might be."
PHONE RINGS
"I'm deeply worried, that who is calling is, me."
PHONE DIES

i check my phone
the single thing that rises me
and i look at one of my only apps
then open it
and then open my missed text
and read it
then scream
then dance
then sing
thank god for that

Sitting relaxed with a bookshop coffee
Enjoying the spacious quiet of my own company
Absorbing the backdrop of aromatic percolation
Of released steam offering sweetened caffeination
The gentle mumur of friends in conversation
The swift taps of bowed students writing late dissitations
And wall to wall literature patiently inviting exploration
This is a bliss that aids meditation.

And then - uninvited -
I'm aware of a cold creeping consternation
At the realisation of the absent phone connection
So I pack my bag with resentful capitulation
Seeking a stronger indication of digital association.

when her ocean sounds
rang the pallid chandelier
i felt my blood cook
and disappear
the pool-house hummed
in the veil of night

i wanted to speak with her
beneath a canopy of lights
i miss her bathroom floor
(the meadow of clothing)
buried like carthage salt
and the hymns she half-sings
into thin air